In summer's sway, with a rind so thick, inside lies the sun's juicy trick. Green or yellow, sweet and round, a picnic's joy can be found.

I used to be one, but aeons wore me down, From what i am now, time's passage was drawn. Cast me in flame, unite me true, and once i am pure, you will see through.

Brown and dead, A body with no head. Found in water and not buried underground, Floating away and not sinking down.

in a golden field bound to a tall wooden pole birds keep me employed

Threshed wheat, unpainted plank. Old film, saltwater tank. With me is smooth, Against me a rebel. Pressure and time form a sediment pebble.